Unveiled
by Hakura0
Summary: Behind the curtain waits a darker world.


The air is almost thick as Sirius regains consciousness, head still muddled by the curse he'd been hit with, and from the knock it had gotten against something when he arrived. The smile was since faded from his facer, his surroundings quiet and there wasn't a drapery in sight. There was almost nothing at all, a simple path, road, and some sign of civilization to head to that a low fog had rolled into. He had no way of knowing how things were going in the Ministry. How they _had_ gone and what his transportation had done to sway the battle, if it had or not.

He had been overconfident, and he had underestimated his bitch of a cousin. Slipped up and it was his mistake and he knew that though it didn't stop his sharing some choice curses in her _honor_. Getting to his feet was easier than admitting that he'd been an idiot though he knew that too; in hindsight. In the moment it was the first time in too long that he'd been actually _alive_. Not cooped up in Grimmauld place, that personal _hell_, and do nothing but clean and listen while plans were made and he could listen, could speak but that was it. It was more likely to drive him insane than even _Azkaban_ had been, and it had been working on it much faster, even if the plusses were far more numerous. He hadn't liked watching the undercover work wear down what health Remus had managed to gain as much as he was sure there were more than a few changes in himself that the werewolf wasn't happy about.

None of that mattered for the moment though since once again, there was nothing that he could _do_. The fact was only cemented by the fact that he seemed to have dropped his wand when he was hit. Which meant there would be no apparating back into things, and that he was thoroughly stranded, with no idea where. If the place he could see was wizarding or muggle; not that it mattered as he was equally wanted in both circles. He'd never get found unless he figured out where he was though, at the _least,_ let alone figure out how to get in contact with someone.

The transformation into a dog came easily enough as it always did, and he started towards the buildings. It took longer than he thought it would to reach them, even at the meandering lope he used to get there. The closer he got though, the more on edge he became. Where the noise should have picked up it _hadn't_, and there were no smells that picked up besides something on the edge of his senses. Faint and with a tang that he couldn't quite place as his hackles stood on end.

No one was there, once he actually reached the streets, the slight damp of the fog clinging to his fur, and Sirius couldn't help the urge that he had to run. Get away from the place that seemed to have been already so thoroughly abandoned but he blamed it on the cold. It had bothered him ever since Azkaban, _reminded_ him of it ever since there, and this wasn't much of an exception, he didn't think. The bad feeling he had was understandable that way, and he was half ready to risk turning back for the better ability to actually _look_ around when he caught a glimpse of something dark out of the corner of his eye. Felt an _extra_ chill when he recognized the shape, too familiar by far. Again though, he blamed his mind, sure that he'd hit his head harder than he thought, and turned back. Continued on down the main street until he heard something behind him that was almost too close for the sudden-ness of the footsteps.

He turned around fast but froze once he had, his mind losing the concentration it would have taken to try to cast a spell without his wand. He didn't get a chance to take in more than humanoid, _wrong_, the lack of face and a stench he again couldn't place, mutated torso, and legs, and then a mouth opened, and Sirius backed away, turned once he was what he thought was far enough away and ran, the thing and it's offbeat footsteps beating behind him until he ducked into a door that was mercifully unlocked and slammed it shut behind him.

The door had barely closed when the smell of blood made Sirius gag and cover his mouth with a hand as he kept his back to the door that the thing didn't seem to be trying. That felt odd and too soft under the hand he had against it, warm and irregular and he didn't want to turn around and look at. The urge fled even further when his eyes started to adjust to the dark, and he could make out splashes of dark across the place, thick grate on the floor and walls that were just not-familiar. The far wall was made of bars and he could barely make out a shape that looked almost human leaning against them. Recalled the _thing_ and made himself turn to find the knob, _something_ to try to get away from this possible other as the first seemed to have gone, but any sign of a door had as well. It was more unsettling than it should have been, but if there was a brick to tap he didn't know which, didn't have a wand to tap with and he edged back, starting to grow wary.

More than wary he wouldn't admit just then, and the thing by the far wall hadn't moved since he entered. It seemed to be almost propped up, _leaning_, and he approached with more than caution, queried but recieved no response and finally touched where he thought a shoulder might fall. It unbalanced the figure and he didn't react quickly enough once more when it fell, revealing a blank, grinning skull wearing the barest remnants of skin and muscle that were still attached to it, and a pair of glasses coated in dust and blood. The bone cracked as it hit the gritty floor and the glasses that were almost familiar shattered, and he watched as a rat that was almost skeletal itself fled from an empty eye socket, veering away from him and dashing through the space between bars.

Before he'd even managed to catch his breath, he knocked a shoulder hard against the rusted bars and manage to break one and then another. He took one with him, rough in his hand as he ran, doubting his eyes again as he moved over the ground that was sticky with blood, heading in the direction he thought the rat that he thought he'd recognized had gone. He knew the difference, he was sure of that. Certain of it if not anything else for the moment, and he reached a branching too far behind to know which way to go, panting as he looked down both paths. Stared only belatedly at the wall they shared when he couldn't see any sign of the rat and caught the words written there in blood, the arrows underneath them that pointed in either direction like a joke or a puzzle; _Guilty, Not Guilty_, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Which way to _go_ to get _him_, until he caught a sound to his right and ran again without thinking.

The sprint only lasted until the first opening that he passed and stepped into, when his ears were assaulted with the sound of waves hitting against rock, louder than it had ever been and out of place. The room itself was too familiar too, and he backed out in a terror that he couldn't hide, more than disturbed. Terrified of a _room_ but the further he went in the direction he'd been headed the more his surroundings repeated themselves. Mirrored the corridors he'd only seen twice from somewhere _not_ in that room. Held the bar that was still in his hand tightly enough that it cut him but he couldn't care about the chance of catching something in that place, of _infection_. All the same though, he couldn't leave. Searched everywhere he could see, and tried to keep his heart from exploding within his chest as it beat hard and fast, and the word, _name_ he could manage to yell to try to get the coward out echoed into something that was almost a laugh. Almost the sound he'd made when Peter had made his escape, when everything had sunk in and he had _lost_ it. The sound didn't really end, just got further away like the ocean's as something else got nearer.

The sound was barely audible, nothing so much as a whisper of fabric and a feeling that he'd never be able to forget. That left running again barely an option but he did it. Got _away_ to somewhere that was quieter and _worse_ but not familiar, and he wasn't sure how the fact that the walls looked like flesh could improve anything, but it _did_, even as he shook. Fought the urge to go to a corner, and continued away as far as he could, found a mirror that was horribly out of place but nothing more. A reflection that wasn't his but shared his eyes, the shape of his face once upon a time, and confused him almost more than anything else in there. Got him to leave that room too. To keep moving, somewhere beyond lost.


End file.
